


close your eyes and make a wish

by orphan_account



Series: random ramvers fics [7]
Category: Captain Marvel (2019), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: 1980s, Alternate Universe - 1980s, Awkward Carol, Birthday, Drinking, F/F, Getting Together, Military, Period-Typical Sexism, Pining Carol, Pre-Canon, Pre-Relationship, U.S. Military, brief but it's there, carol just wants maria to be happy, carol's got heart eyes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-23
Updated: 2019-09-23
Packaged: 2020-10-26 20:57:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,357
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20748638
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Carol inhales, holds her cake out to Maria, and smiles. "Hap-happy birthday."In the corner, the tape stutters, drowning out to just a vague clicking sound. Carol purses her lips, blushes, and just watches Maria, something akin to the feeling of landing a bird blossoming throughout her chest when she sees Maria step closer."Danvers", she says, eyes crinkling with amusement as one of the flames of her candles flickers out. "You something else, you know that?". . .Carol wants to do something special for Maria's birthday





	close your eyes and make a wish

**Author's Note:**

> This is short, but I couldn't stop thinking about it 😁😁😁.

The thing about it is, Carol’s never really been one for birthdays.

On her sixth birthday, her mom got up in the midst of a fight with her father and left, never to be seen from again. Carol hadn’t even finished blowing out the candles. She tries not to make a big deal about it because, hey, moms leave all the time. But ever since then, she’s kinda sworn off on ‘em, be they hers or anyone else's. And after she told her father about wanting to fly, well, she hasn’t really had anyone to have a birthday with.

But that was years ago. Before she met Maria.

Admittedly, even after they became friends, the whole birthday thing still eluded her because as two of the only women on base, they were pretty careful about giving out personal details. The guys who weren’t assholes often left boxes of chocolates and flower bouquets at their desks, and Lord knows they just needed a birthday date to really push their luck. And it wasn’t that the women on base didn’t necessarily trust each other, it was just one of those habits that was hard to break after you’d been at it for so long.

Carol had lucked out this year, though. During a night out drinking (Cokes, because they had to fly the next morning), Maria had told her, almost shyly, that she was born on November Eleventh.

When Maria wasn’t looking, Carol scribbled the date down and committed it to memory,  _ eleven-eleven _ bouncing around her skull like a jingle.

And then, last week, Maria mentioned something about her parents and her brothers flying out to see her soon. It was after they’d learn they’d been selected for a demonstration in Florida, and, amazing as that sounded, it also happened to fall on the day of her birthday. Maria had been kinda quiet that night; she’d been planning something special with her folks for months, and just like that, it was as if the plans had all but evaporated. It was the reality of the kind of life they lived, but Maria was always making sacrifices like that. 

And she wasn’t like Carol, who’d been all but disowned by her family the moment she was born; Maria had a family, she had friends, she had dreams. If anyone least deserved to be stuck smiling and posing while the “more experienced flyers” inspired grade schoolers on their birthday, it was Maria.

Now, Carol knew she could never convince her to call out sick for the day. But she did hope she could breathe some magic back into the day, even if just for a little while.

So when Maria came into their motel room that evening, she did so to dim lights, with a monster of a homemade vanilla cake sitting in the table of heir kitchenette.

Maria props her duffel bag up against the wall and closes the door behind her. Her eyes dart about the room, taking in the sheepish gas station candles and the scratchy record of happy birthday playing on the radio. Then she looks at Carol and smiles, albeit confusedly. 

"Well", she says, hands shoved into her front pockets. "I...what’s...what’s all this?"

Carol tips her plastic knife back and forth and laughs. "I, uh, remembered you sayin' your folks wouldn’t be able to fly out ‘til this weekend, with the demo being last minute and everything." She shuffles her feet, turns to gently slip her hands underneath the cake, and clears her throat. "It’s not much, and I know you’d rather be with your family, but I just figured." Carol inhales, holds her cake out to Maria, and smiles. "Hap-happy birthday."

In the corner, the tape stutters, drowning out to just a vague clicking sound. Carol purses her lips, blushes, and just watches Maria, something akin to the feeling of landing a bird blossoming throughout her chest when she sees Maria step closer.

"Danvers", she says, eyes crinkling with amusement as one of the flames of her candles flickers out. "You something else, you know that?"

Carol sets the cake down once more, knife at the ready as they sit on opposite ends of the table. As she watches, she can’t help but take in the way the light of the candles warms Maria’s eyes, giving birth to an all new shade of brown. Awkwardly, she drives her knife through the cake, her hands shaking because Maria’s watching her so warmly, and that’s all she’s wanted these past few years, to have her look at her like she’s the only person in the world.

Obviously, it’s not the way Maria means. She’s just that person, the kind that gets along with everyone if given a chance. She’s kind and sweet and generous, and, sure, it hurts sometimes, to know it only extends so far. But most times, just being Maria’s friend makes Carol feel good. Even if Maria never thinks of Carol the way she does her, she’ll always have this moment; she’ll always have her friendship. "I wasn’t sure what flavor you’d like", Carol admits, dropping Maria’s slice onto a plate. "Is vanilla okay?"

Maria nods, accepting the plate with a quiet “Thank you”. And thank God for that. Carol won’t tell her, but she spent all afternoon baking cakes of various flavors and hoping to shit that she wasn’t allergic to at least one of them. The remaining ones are in the oven, and she hasn’t a clue what she’ll do with them, but she figures she can worry about that later.

It’s awkward at first. Belatedly, Carol realizes with the candles and "surprise!" of it all, that this isn’t the kind of thing that friends normally do. But after a while, Maria melts into it, poking at conversation until the awkwardness leaves. And for how comfortable it all feels, it might as well be any other night.

"To the woman of the hour", Carol giggles, pouring Maria another shot of champagne. "To the big Three Oh."

Maria giggles back. She lifts her glass, clinks it against Carol’s, and lets her head loll to the side.

Carol drums her fingers against the table, then rushes over to the duffel in the corner, and pulls Maria’s polaroid out from the pocket she always keeps it in.

"One for prosperity", she asks with a wicked wiggle of her brows, and Maria beams, a hundred watt smile if she ever saw one. Carol saddles up beside her, throws an arm around Maria’s waist, and, what the hell, presses her lips to Maria’s cheek.

When reality bleeds across the film, it’s like her heart all but stops in her chest. She doubts she’ll ever fly as she does now, seeing how happy and content they both look in each other’s embrace.

"You gonna make a wish", Carol asks, not bothering to untangle herself.

Maria just snorts and blinks sleepily. "Already did, babe."

Morning comes, and they get a call from McClain, telling them that the kids want more pictures with them.

Carol’s packing up their shit, leaving a note for the manager about the cakes, when Maria spins her around from where she’s bent over the bed and pulls her in for a brief kiss. Carol’s too surprised, and a little hungover, to react; when Maria pulls away, Carol trails after her lips, panic settling in at the thought that she’s just missed her chance. 

Maria just smiles, brushes her fingers against Carol’s cheek, and watches her. "Don’t keep me waiting", she says with a wink. Then she turns and walks out the door, the engine of her Mustang roaring moments later.

Carol finishes packing in record time, sidling into the passenger seat with a dopey grin on her face. Maria shakes her head, pulls back the gearshift, and drives onto the main road.

"What was your wish", she asks later, as they’re marching through the damp grass leading to the airport.

Maria smirks and brushes the back of her hand against Carol’s before jogging ahead to fall in line beside Bukowski.

She never tells her her wish, but Carol thinks she has an idea.


End file.
